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“What are you going to do about it? You report it to the police, and I’ll get to you anyway before they get to me. I don’t mind life in prison once I know Scottie’s safe, but how much do you value your life?”
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. I spun on my heels and walked down the steps. I’d wasted enough time on the scumbag. Scottie was waiting for me, and I’d promised to return to cuddle with him. Now that I knew what he’d been going through, I would cuddle him all day.
“Jay, are you coming?” I asked.
“Fuck it,” he growled and ran up the steps. He pulled back his fist and clobbered David right in the gut. David’s mouth flew open as he gasped for air and collapsed onto his knees. “That’s been a long time coming, you piece of shit. He might not be able to hit you, but I can.”
Jay hurried to catch up with me, looking way too satisfied with himself.
“What happened to letting the law handle this?” I asked.
“What? It was just one tiny punch, and I did it so you wouldn’t come back and beat the shit out of him. I knew you really wanted to.”
He wasn’t wrong. We grinned at each other, a moment of understanding passing between us. He might not know it, but he had more of his old man in him than he would be comfortable with.
37
SCOTTIE
Shortly after Griff left, I woke up again and fired off an email noting that I wouldn’t show up at work because I wasn’t feeling well. As I hit Send, a twinge of guilt stabbed me, but I brushed it off. It wasn’t exactly a lie. I still felt horrible about the incidents of the past couple of days, but Griff returning home in the middle of the night and cuddling me had improved my mood.
Could I have been mistaken about him and how much control he had over his anger these days? Maybe telling him the truth wouldn’t be so bad. But what if it was? That tiny sliver of doubt was enough for me to stick to my stance on being silent about the whole affair.
After taking a bath, I dressed and got started on breakfast. Griff had said he would cuddle with me when he returned, and I expected him to get home soon. I made eggs with sausages and bacon, but still he hadn’t come home.
Not wanting to eat without him, I nursed a cup of coffee in the living room while watching the news. I wished I hadn’t. They were reporting about a woman who had been beaten to death by her husband. Her sister, hardly able to put words together, explained the abuse had been going on for years, but she had refused to leave him.
I grabbed the remote and turned off the television. The story hit too close to home. How many times had I excused David’s actions or downplayed how much pain he’d put me in? Those beatings I’d told myself were nothing but little slaps had actually been way more. Once he’d held me by the neck and smacked me across the face so many times I’d burst into tears. He’d just laughed and told me to shut up before he fucked me. So often I’d mistaken how much he wanted me as him loving me.
Dizziness rolled through me, and I placed my head between my thighs and focused on my breathing. Enough was enough. No more covering up for him. David hadn’t changed at all, and he’d had no right to put his hands on me.
Feeling steadier, I searched the laundry basket for the clothes I’d worn yesterday. The phone number the cop had given me in case I changed my mind about pressing charges against David was crumpled up, but I could make out each number. I punched in the digits and waited.
“Detective Malloy, how may I help you?”
“D-d-detective Malloy.” I inhaled deeply.
“Yes?”
“I’m not sure if you remember me, but I came to the police station yesterday to report an assault. You gave me your number and said if I changed my mind about pressing charges, I could call you.”
“Yes, I remember you,” Detective Malloy’s voice was steady and reassuring. “I’m glad you called. I’ve been hoping I would hear from you.”
A shaky sigh escaped my lips. “I think I’ve made up my mind. I want to press charges.”
“That’s very brave of you.”
I laughed, the sound hollow. “I’m not brave at all. I’m scared out of my mind.”
“And that’s okay,” he reassured me. “We’re here to help you through this.”
His words were like a balm to my festering fears. “Thank you,” I whispered, and for the first time since David had attacked me in the parking lot, a shimmering sense of hope took root.
“The first step would be to come down to the station. We’ll need to take your statement in detail, and it’s best done in person. We already spoke to you yesterday, so we have some things documented, but anything else you can share with us will be helpful.”
“Okay.”
“Great. Would you like to meet me at two at the police station?”
